Goodbye, Faux-Maxie!
by Ken Pen
Summary: Maxie gets her just desserts.


Title: Goodbye Faux-Maxie!  
Author: Ken Pen  
Rating: PG-13 (on the safe side)  
Feedback: Knack6@hotmail.com, or use the review section   
Disclaimer: These characters belong to ABC. Don't pass this story around or archive it without my permission.   
Summary: Faux-Maxie gets her just desserts.   
  
Note: Sorry to any fans of the new Maxie, but I despise her. This is dedicated to Robyn Richards, who devoted nearly a decade of wonderful performances to her fans. May we see you again, Robyn.   
  
Maxie wandered through her home in a daze. She was frequently confused, but things like walking into doors without hitting her head just wasn't as important as her main goal in life, her ONLY goal in life: Bedding Lucky Spencer.   
  
Maxie placed her hand on the knob of her bedroom door, ready to start the day. She thought about Lucky. Lucky was so cute and had such a nice butt and was like totally, totally dreamy and...  
  
"OW! My head hurts!"   
  
She had forgotten to open the door again. That's what guys were for. Maxie concentrated, and, after thinking really really hard and wondering what Britney Spears would do, managed to get the door open and walk out of the room.   
  
When she reached the living room, her first thought was of that awful little girl who was supposed to be her sister. Maxie had tried to put her in a machine and make her 18 overnight, but Georgia got away just in time. What kind of name was Georgia, anyway? Who wanted to be named after a state, or an old guy who wore wooden dentures? Maxie had had no idea of how permissive the Revolutionary Days were until she realized the father of America was named Georgia Washington. Maybe he was related to Denzel. Or RuPaul.  
  
Wandering again, Maxie bumped right into this old woman - she had to be in her 40's, at least - that kept saying she was her mother. Ugh. And Mommy was waving Maxie's...birth control pills!  
  
"What are these, Maxie? You're too young! And don't you know heart transplant recipients are cautioned against taking these?"   
  
Maxie started shrieking.   
  
"I didn't ask for this heart, you know! It's not like anybody died!"   
  
Felicia's eyes bulged from their sockets.   
  
"Maxie, your cousin BJ died!"   
  
"Well, then she didn't need her heart anyway! If you want, I can give it back! I'll just go get a heart from Lucas. It's not like he needs it. Does he ever get older?"  
  
Suddenly, Bobbie appeared from the shadows. Mommy always told Maxie not to stand too close to Bobbie, because, "those are going to pop one day." Maxie didn't listen very often, but in this case, she did. She started backing away, heading for the front door.  
  
"You are a waste of Barbara Jean's heart. You are a waste of SPACE. This can't go on. First they got Nik, then Lucky, now Maxie...when will it end?"   
  
Felicia shook her head, tearing up.  
  
"My daughter is gone forever. This girl, this...twit, is not my daughter."   
  
Nodding in agreement, Bobbie kept walking towards Maxie, a cold, steely glint in her eye. Maxie yelled back the only insult she could think of.   
  
"Yo-You sound like a phone sex operator! Stay away!"   
  
Conjuring up images of Christina Aguiliera to guide her, Maxie managed to open the front door and ran out of the house. Sandals clattering against the pavement, her belly shirt drenched to her skin with all the icky sweat. Bobbie followed her, then Felicia. Then more and more townspeople, carrying torches, chanting, screaming. Edward Quartermaine. Sonny Corinthos. Jasper Jacks. If only Lucky could save her. But Lucky had a hard time opening doors too, so he was probably locked in his dark room again.   
  
She kept going for at least 4 or 5 minutes, only to run directly into the outstretched arm of Lizzie Webber. She fell to the ground as her body reeled from the clothesline. She had only just begun to recover when Lizzie grabbed her by the back of her hair, dragging her into a nearby alley. Dumping Maxie on the ground, Lizzie snarled at her, spitting out words against the brick walls.   
  
"My God, I thought it couldn't get any worse than Sarah! But you are just too stupid to live."   
  
Maxie nodded along, hypnotized by the overpowering sheen of Lizzie's lip gloss. So engrossed was she that she barely noticed Gia's designer pumps click-clacking behind her.   
  
"Hey there, Maxie Pad. Lizzie Borden and I have decided to join forces for the common good, as my brother would say. Killing you is pointless, cause nobody in this town ever dies. But we've got a better plan."   
  
Maxie stood up, wanting to run away. Just as she was preparing to sprint, Liz and Gia pulled a cannon out from behind packing cartons. Maxie knew she should flee, but at the very back of the cannon there was a glossy photo of Lucky, a guitar strapped to his waist. And he was showing his arm muscles. Maxie sighed. The top right side of the photo had, "love you 4ever, Maxie" scrawled in black marker. Maxie just had to get that photo. Her shrine wasn't complete without it. So she crawled inside the dark chute, clutching the photo to her chest. Gia and Liz high-fived each other as they lit the fuse.   
  
Dreaming of being Mrs. Lucky Spencer, she barely noticed the large explosion, or flying through the air, or crashing into the woods. It just got dark for a few hours. She finally woke up, staring right into the blue, vacant eyes of a blonde girl wearing a do-rag that made her look like she was from that Russia country.   
  
"Were you sent here to tell me about Rafe? Where is Rafe? I come out here every day, waiting for him to come back. He feeds me and bathes me and wipes my bottom."   
  
Maxie nodded. She had found her soul sister.  
  
"I feel the same way about Lucky Spencer. We were born to be with these men. That's all I want in life, is a man. Lucky. Lucky. Lucky."  
  
Extending her hand, Alison helped her up.   
  
"Come back to the candle shop with me. You can carve Lucky's initials in the wooden beam, right beside mine and Rafe's. Don't you love that name? Rafe. Rafe. Rafe."   
  
Chattering, they walked off into the sunset, repeating the names of the men they lived for. 


End file.
